The tales that emerge aren’t based on my hopes and dreams. They aren’t fantasies, per se. They just…happen. My brain likes to be prepared, so it gives me 21 possibilities for 21 steps ahead before I even realize I’m doing it.
This same quality makes my anxiety especially problematic, because it means I can tell you all the ways things can go wrong. It makes my fear of the apocalypse persistent. It offends my anti-romantic sensibilities when my brain jumps ahead and imagines me in a relationship before I even know someone, and I have to rein it in with a certain amount of disgust.
But this same quality also makes novel and series writing a lot easier. So, qualities that are maladaptive in my social situations are more adaptive in others. Take, for instance, dissociation. That’s kind of a job requirement for a writer.
Also, my sense of empathy, which inspires a great deal of my dissociation–and which also makes creating opinions on major issues and ethical concerns difficult–makes me good at slipping out of me and into my characters.
I wish more of these traits could be more adaptive in my real life instead of just my writing life.